


The Play

by Mikearoni



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gen, rated for mild language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 19:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12514228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikearoni/pseuds/Mikearoni
Summary: So you go to see this school play. I mean, you've heard it's not terrible and you've got nothing better to do, so why not? Maybe these high-schoolers will actually be interesting to watch, and all that. So you wander in and buy a ticket. A Midsummer Nightmare About Zombies begins.





	The Play

So you go to see this school play.

I mean, you’ve heard it’s not terrible and you’ve got nothing better to do, so why not? Maybe these high-schoolers will actually be interesting to watch, and all that. So you wander in and buy a ticket.

The crowd of teenagers, more teenagers, and the occasional legitimate adult here and there was ridiculously loud, so it’s safe to assume you got here early. People tend to shut up when plays start. But you’d rather not dissolve into the crowd just yet, I mean, they’re selling snacks out here. You work your way into the line beginning to form and, after you count up and hand over your loose change, you leave the concessions stand one Mountain Dew richer. Just the regular green kind, mind you. Wandering back towards the seats, you pop it open.

Obnoxious crowds aren’t really your style, so you plunk yourself down somewhere near the back. You’re still able to see the stage from here, so whatever. The back few rows are nice and empty, which means if you get bored you can take one sweet nap; but hopefully you’ll be too interested in the play to doze off.

The only other person back here is some guy who looks like he might be asleep already, cradled in a warm-looking hoodie and a pair of oversized headphones. Tucked under one arm, for some incomprehensible reason, was a two-liter bottle of red soda. You’re not sure why you’d want to sneak in a drink that ridiculous if you’re going to sleep the whole time--was he asleep? It’s kind of hard to tell--but hey, whatever. Maybe this guy’s got the right idea.

It wouldn’t have been long before you descended into boredom yourself, so it’s a relief to see the auditorium lights dimming. The crowd went from obnoxiously screaming to obnoxiously whispering, which is at least an improvement. Finally someone came out on stage.

“Welcome, everybody!”

Wow, the play’s pretty good so far.

“Thank you so much for coming to our production of ‘A Midsummer Nightmare About Zombies’. It’s been a rough week for all of us at Middleborough--” the name of the school, you astutely notice. “That’s why this play is so important, to bring this school together, to show you something special! I know that if Rich were here, instead of the intensive care unit at Beth Israel, he’d say: go out and show everyone the relevant power of live theater!”

Jesus, what happened with the Rich kid? Was he at that one party that burned down or something? Man, that was all people talked about for ages. Is this school okay?

“Oh, and--thanks to Hobby Lobby for the costumes.”

You’re beginning to doubt the quality of this high school play. The announcer girl quickly moves backstage again, looking reasonably stressed, and aside from constant muttering from the audience, everything falls relatively silent.

Finally, A Midsummer Nightmare About Zombies begins.

And you know what? It’s pretty good.

You take a sip from your slightly warm Mountain Dew, knowing full well if it spilled you’d probably have to scrub it out of the auditorium carpet yourself. Oh well. It wouldn’t even compare to the stains that, say, a bright red soda would leave on just about anything. You cast a glance at the dude down the way with the headphones, and he looked much more awake now; or anxious even, like he was afraid of real zombies. What’s up with this guy?

You won’t stare for too long though, because, well. You may or may not be invested in the weird zombie play now. Oops. If you knew the original story better you might be able to compare all the things they changed, aside from the obvious shift from fairies to zombies, but for now you’ll just see what you can glean from it. And you know what? You’re actually having fun.

You take another sip of Mountain Dew.

You would remark on how smoothly the play is going, but at that moment the mistake counter ticked up to one. One actor--Puck you think--missed their cue entirely. The rest of the cast continued near flawlessly without their missing actor, but you can’t be the only one who noticed, right? It was going so well too. Must be so embarrassing for these poor kids.

You glance around, looking for similar reactions, only to find that the headphones kid with the red soda is staring at you--or.. no, at your half-empty can of Mountain Dew--and he looks terrified. The moment he realizes you’re staring back he swings his wide-eyed gaze towards the stage, takes in a huge, shaky breath, and scrambles out of his seat like a madman; headphones guy was booking it at top speed towards the stage, and disappeared into a side door hardly moments later.

What the fuck was that about?

That weird little scene shifted your whole mood for the night. You’d love to go back to being invested in the zombie play, but at this point you can’t help but notice the number of actors is dwindling. Seriously, they’re really good at what little they’re doing now, but where are they all going? At this rate there won’t be anyone left.

You can’t tell if this was on purpose or if headphones guy just made you concerned.

Before long the rest of the audience follows suit, muttering about the fact that, oh, I don’t know, next to nobody is performing? Now voices could be heard from backstage. Someone was arguing? Maybe? What the hell happened to the zombie play?

You happened to notice something spilling from just under the curtains: a small pool of red soda. 

You are so fucking confused.

It doesn’t take long before the last actor, the girl who introduced the play and was by far the most involved, retreated backstage as well. You think the audience might be applauding for her, so you join along, but such an sequence of events left you a bit disorientated. Oh well. Maybe they’ll just end it here, since--

You would have continued that thought, but at that exact moment, a chorus of pained screams rang out from backstage. Not moments later you heard the sound of a full cast of actors collapsing in unison onto a hardwood stage.

You don’t think the play was meant to end like this.


End file.
